


RESPECT

by Lusciousinpain



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Fluff, M/M, Rimming, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-20
Updated: 2013-03-20
Packaged: 2017-12-05 22:47:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/728757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lusciousinpain/pseuds/Lusciousinpain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Dean's turn to be taught a lesson on what it means to be in a monogomous romantic relationship with a very possessive angel</p>
            </blockquote>





	RESPECT

**Author's Note:**

> This is the third installment on the "Cas worship" prompt from my friend Vhanstiel. This time, the one doing the teaching in worshiping is Castiel. Guess who gets taught the lesson this time.

"Hey, waddaya know, pig-in-a-poke." Dean says, smile wide while reading Tuesday’s special’s off the Diner's board. 

"Dude, seriously?" Sam asks, face pinched, feelings too raw and sensitive after so many Tuesdays spent reliving Dean's death.

"Oh, sorry there Sammy, forgot about-” Dean starts to apologize, but stops when their very buxom waitress appears.

"What can I get for you boys?” The pretty blonde asks with a bright smile, focusing her ample charms on Dean, heavily mascaraed eyes blatantly sweeping over his sitting form and lingering on him a little too long, for her own good.

"I'll have the special, side of bacon and coffee, sweetheart." Dean says and winks, knowing from the very interested sparkle in her eyes, that she is ripe for the picking. If he were so inclined. Which he is most definitely not, _thankyouverymuch._ But because he's such a swell guy, offers her his most charming smile, anyway.

"How 'bout you?" She asks Sam, eyes still locked on Dean.

"Ah, just coffee. Thanks." Sam mutters.

"Alrighty then, I’ll be right back with your coffee." She replies, then bending low at the waist, boldly leans (bust first) into Dean's personal space, hovering there a long awkward moment, before reaching out to retrieve their menus.

Both brothers openly stare after her when she walks away, mouths slightly gaping, mesmerized by the provocative, inviting, sway of her wide hips.

Once she’s out of sight, Sam asks about Castiel's lessons, but has to clear his throat with a loud cough, to finally get Dean's attention.

"Huh? What lessons?” Dean asks, brows knitting in confusion, seriously not understanding Sam’s question, or how it pertains to the tasty treat they just witnessed. 

"The lessons you were _very_ emphatic Castiel learn ‘once and for all’.” Sam reminds him, obnoxiously using air-quotes. “Those were your words, Dean.” He points out helpfully, then snorts. “Man, I can't even make this shit up.”

He leans back against his seat, folds his massive arms over his well defined chest, and looks incredulously at his brother. "You even told me not to interrupt, ‘if I knew what was good for me.'", he air-quotes again. "Any of this ringing a bell yet?”

“Drawing a blank here, Sammy." Dean says after a beat, words clipped, tone tense, gaze challenging, daring Sam to contradict him.

“Dean, how can you even say that? It’s all you’ve been talking about for the past week; Castiel’s lesson plan." Sam insists, brow furrowing further, shaking his head in disbelief. “I even offered to help, but you insisted that it was your responsibility.” 

“Nada, bro.” Dean shakes his head and shrugs. “I’ve got no idea what the heck you’re even on about. Lessons, me? Seriously dude, think about it. What could _I_ ever teach a billion year old angel, for fucksake?"

“Seriously-seriously? Nothing? Fine, fine, suit yourself.” Sam stammers. “Guess I'll just have to ask Cas, himself, when he drops by later, right?” he threatens, smirking when Dean's face flushes an alarming shade of red. _Ah-ha, gotcha!_ He thinks.

"Oh...those lessons." Dean says with a snap of his fingers. "Yeah, right, now I remember.” he nods, eyes growing wide and innocent, as if he's just recalling the varied and lengthy claims he made during the past week about 'manning-up' and teaching the angel his lesson. "Ah, sure, I um, drilled those babies into Cas real good and hard. All night long, as s matter of fact."

He bobs his head a few more times, silently mulling over his options, then, with his decision made, morphs his innocent smile seamlessly into a full shit-eating grin.

"And, let me tell you something else," he starts again. "Cas is one hell of a great student. Yes sir, very dedicated.” Dean’s eyes go glassy and far away thinking back on just _how fucking good_ a pupil Castiel was the previous evening. "Why, I even made sure he didn't leave until I was convinced he had his lessons memorized. Even made him get down and show me, by example, everything I showed him." 

"That's great Dean. What kind of lessons were they, again?" Sam asks expectantly, curious and sincerely interested, but he knows he's pushing his luck if he continues to prod his brother for more information.

"None of your bees-wax.” Dean predictably snaps. “And don't go getting into Cas' face about it either...or else.” He waits a beat, then asks, “So, did you get the Intel Garth was gonna e-mail about our latest case?” he deflects, trying to steer the conversation, not too subtlety, away from whatever he and Castiel were up to, the previous evening. 

"Intel Dean?" Sam gawps, skeptical and more than a little pissed off at his brother's shitty attempt to side track the topic. But foolishly undeterred, Sam presses on. “I just _assumed_ Castiel’s lessons might be about new strategies on hunting as a human, now that’s he’s kinda powered down, and all. And maybe I can pitch in my two cents, you know, pick up the slack-"

"Well, you know what Sammy, when you _assume_ it makes you a bitch.” Dean sneers, knowing that not only would his antics with Castiel scar Sam for life, but that they're also none of his goddamn business. And in any case, Dean's saving the most jarring bits as ammunition for any future petty vengeance 'pay-back', against his baby brother. So decides to withhold the more explicit details, for now anyway, and bides his time for the 'pay-Sammy-back-for-being-a-little-bitch' day, that’s certain to be in their near future.

"Trust me man, you _do not_ want to know the details.” 

Sam huffs a long weary sigh, throws his hands up in surrender - beyond fed up - and says, "Nice, jerk. Fine, you win.” He shakes his head and says crossly, "Guess they couldn't have gone too well if you can't even discuss them with me.” 

"Heh, trust me Sammy, they went very, _very_ , well.” Dean assures pointedly, fists clenching and unclenching on the cheap Formica, getting more and more annoyed by his brother's relentless nagging, and now dangerously close to breaking.

_Sam wants to know what went on, fine._ Dean thinks, and lets him have it. "Let's just say, there was plenty of 'pitching' back and forth. And I wouldn't mind a hundred, _no_ , a lifetime of Tuesdays spent like last night with Cas, if you catch my drift.”

"Yeah, gross, Dean. And thanks, I think I just vomited in my mouth.” Sam grumbles and gags. "And for your information, it's fine if you don't want to discuss it with me. As a matter of fact, please don't tell me anything more. 'Cause if it has anything to do with your and Cas’ epic gay love for each other, then I already know too much." 

“Ha!" Dean hisses triumphantly, keeping his voice down so as not to be overheard by any nearby diners. "You asked for it. No, you begged for it. Got what you deserved, too, niggling, digging and not letting up about it. I did warn you, but no. You wanted to know what I taught Cas. Well, bro, get ready to be shocked and amazed, ‘cause last night-" Dean barrels on excitedly, ticking off the juicier moments of his late night romp with the angel. But he’s interrupted again, when their waitress shows up and starts pouring their coffee.

"Here you go, fellas." She singsongs, setting their coffee down and giving Dean a flirtatious wink.

"Dude, don't you think Cas would mind?" Sam hiss-whispers behind his open hand, brows raised so high, they’re in dire danger of disappearing under his too long bangs.

"Mind what?" Dean asks casually, truly puzzled. "Listen, Cas knows perfectly well how I feel about him. He's so sure of me, _us_ , especially after last night..." he adds with a lecherous waggling of his brows. "That he couldn’t care less about a little harmless flirting."

Apparently satisfied with his own lame-ass logic, Dean leans heavily against his seat, crosses his ankles, and smiles (a little to suggestively) at their waitress as she approaches their table with their food, appreciating the way her hips wiggle as she walks, and how the food tray held aloft, highlights her tiny waist. 

"I had the cook give you a few extra links, cutie. They're real sweet and savory, kinda like me." She giggles, setting Dean’s food down in front of him and placing her hand delicately over his large forearm, gently squeezing it for emphasis.

Dean grins broadly, reaches over with his free arm to cover her hand with his, and pats it lightly. "Yeah, I bet you are, ah...?"

"Amber-Lynn. And you are?" She purrs, shamelessly leaning over Dean and fully turning her back on a stunned Sam.

“Well there _Amber-Lynne_ ," Dean purrs right back, body on automatic. "I sure do appreciate you taking such good care of me, but to be perfectly honest, I ah…” he starts then pauses, searching for the right words to let the girl down gently; _‘cause maybe Sam does have a point.'_ he finally concedes, but will never admit. 

He opens his mouth, fully intent on telling her that he's already in a very happy and very monogamous relationship, when the diner's doors blow open and he, along with every other patron, turn to look for the cause, of the sudden disturbance.

 _Fuck!_ Dean gapes, slacked jaw and dumbfounded because standing right inside the diner's doors is his boyfriend, tall and fucking imposing, although slightly disheveled, in his tan trench coat. The angel immediately locks eyes with Dean, and without so much as a cursory glance around the large space, walks determinedly towards the brothers' booth.

"Wind sure is kicking up out there." A very startled Amber-Lynne remarks to no one in particular, then hastily sets another place when she notices Dean scoot across the bench seat, and make room for his friend.

"And what will you have?" She asks Castiel, eying him hungrily.

"I'll have him." Castiel growls, jabbing his thumb towards a shocked Dean and glaring angrily at the stunned girl.

"Oh?" _OH!_ "Oops, my bad, I guess." She apologizes, staring at the menu in her hands, and spins, almost tripping in her haste to get away from Castiel's dangerous gaze. 

"Whoa, Cas, not cool, buddy." Dean scolds. “What the hell was that all about?" He asks, leaning closer to Castiel to place the soothing weight of his hand on top of the angel's firm thigh.

"Told you so." Sam chides, cupping his hand over his mouth to cover his sniggering. 

Castiel turns his stormy glower on Dean, but after a silent moment of gazing into each other's eyes, his expression dramatically softens. "Hello Dean." He says in a gentler tone, leaning in to brush his lips lightly over the tight line of the hunter's. “What were you doing before I walked in?” He asks and smiles, a barely noticeable curl of his plush lips.

"Um, wha? Me doing?" Dean replies and gulps, _'cause fuck_ , body unconsciously canting closer to the angel's, eager for more contact, completely caught off guard by Castiel's lack of self-consciousness and his open show of affection in public. It's enough to evaporate his prior irritation, and when they lock eyes again, they wordlessly communicate their feelings in the silent way that has slowly evolved between them. 

“Cas...too much...I-“ Dean all but exhales a beat later, gaze getting hotter and heavier the longer he stares into his lover’s hypnotic blue eyes.

Sam unfortunately hears that. He clears his throat _loudly_ , hoping to interrupt them before they get lost in one of their epic staring contests. "Hey there, Cas." He almost shouts.

"Hello, Sam." Castiel replies with wide eyes, blushing as if he's just noticed him sitting there.

"Hmpft," Sam chuckles softly. "I was afraid you were going to maybe smite that poor waitress, Cas. You sure as shit scared the hell out of her." Sam looks over to his brother, and smirks. "So, um, Dean was telling me your lessons were a success last night." He says lightly, enjoying himself thoroughly when Dean starts fidgeting nervously in his seat.

"Ah, yes, Dean's lessons." Castile answers thoughtfully. "They were _very_ beautiful, Sam." He replies honestly, turning to look at Dean again, eyes soft and fond, full of love.

"Cool." Sam says, valiantly trying not to grimace. The angel's dreamy expression makes him incredibly uncomfortable and he belatedly realizes that maybe it wasn't such a good idea, after all, to bring the subject up.

"Yes, cool." Castiel agrees with a nod, then turns back to Dean. "I take the lessons Dean taught me, _very_ seriously." He directs the disturbing comment towards Sam, but never takes his eyes off Dean. “And as such,” he adds, voice dropping lower, tone stern and serious. "I have come to the realization that Dean too, needs to be taught a lesson.” 

“Wait, what?” Dean asks dumbly, caught off guard by the angel’s comment. “You gonna teach me something, Cas?” he asks with a small smile, then leans in closer and whispers suggestively into Castiel's ear. “You have a lesson you want me to learn, hm? Will there be a quiz after, professor?” 

A loud gruff cough snaps their attention back to Sam. “Guys, please.” He begs, gesturing with a tip of his head to the other people in the diner. “Let’s try to keep things G-rated here, okay? Kids and families all around us, in case you haven’t notice.”

“My apologies.” Castiel replies solemnly and moves away, fractionally, from Dean's side. 

“Christ Sam, don’t be such a prude. No one’s even looking our way." Dean snaps, upset with his brother's interruption even though he knows seducing his angel during breakfast at a local diner in the deep South, might not be in their best interest.

_Damn it!_

He takes a deep breath to steady himself, but only gets dizzier when he gets a lungful of the angel’s special 'other-worldly' scent, instead; Castiel, sitting so close, so warm, so open and so, so, inviting, is wreaking havoc with Dean's self-control.

_Get a grip, Winchester!_

“No one, seriously?” Sam snaps back, nodding towards the kitchen where they can see every waitress, and quite a few of the waiters, huddled together, speaking in hushed tones, and grinning widely in their direction. 

Dean takes a look towards their audience and smirks, tipping them with his imaginary hat. “Let them stare.” He shrugs. “We’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, right Cas?” He asks the angel, grabbing him by his coat’s collar and pulling him in for a wet, sloppy, and very loud kiss. “What say you and me get going? I don’t want to be late for class, professor.”

Dean stands and bows with dramatic flare to the very enthusiastic applause, catcalls, and more than a few wolf-whistles, from the diner’s staff. He nudges Castiel out of his seat, slapping him playfully on the behind, and clutches onto his arm to guide him towards the diner’s exit.

“Wait, what about your pig-in-a-poke?” Sam calls after the couple, more shocked by the fact that Dean left his untouched meal behind, than the cringe worthy spectacle he just made of himself.

“Not hungry for...food, bro.” Dean answers, grinning wickedly. "You have it. I’m in the mood for a different kind of poke, if you catch my drift.” He laughs, reaching out to wrap his arm around Castiel's waist. He pulls the angel tightly to his side, hoping the image of what he just did, and will be doing later, is enough to give his smart-ass baby brother indigestion. “Here.” Dean shouts, tossing Sam his car-keys. “Be careful with my baby, or you'll get a bitch slapping, bitch.”

Dean turns to Castiel and steers his very happy looking boyfriend (because like it or not, that's exactly what Castiel is) towards the exit.

Dean couldn't be happier, and his heart hammers frantically at the realization.

"Shake you later, Sammy.” He calls out and pulls the angel closer to his side. 

“Dean, wait…” Sam starts, then stops abruptly when it's just him in the empty booth. 

… 

At the exact moment Sam stares at the spot where Dean and Castiel were standing, Dean finds himself lying flat on his back in their motel room. He’s naked with his arms and legs tied to the bed posts, _wait, did this bed have posts yesterday,_ he wonders absently, then whimpers softly at the deliciously obscene sight, before him; Castiel, also wonderfully naked, lazily stroking his massive erection.

“Dean.” Castiel says in a low rasp, the menacing note in his tone, making Dean impossibly harder. 

“Cas, ah, class's in session, right? How about you get the show on the road, there and blow me?” Dean winks, blowing the angel a kiss, hoping that's enough to provoke him into action. 

“Yes, Dean. Class _is_ in session." Castiel stresses, eyes steady and unwavering on his lover, slowly stripping his cock. 

Dean moans, _because, holy fuck!_ "Cas," he croaks, throat too dry. "Your mouth on me, now." He all but begs.

But to Dean's great dismay, Castiel ignores him. "The lesson that you will be learning today, and you will learn it, Dean," Castiel stresses, ignoring his lover's plea. "Even if I have to _pound it_ into you, over and over again, is 'Respect'." The angel states conversationally, his matter of fact tone, brooking no argument. 

Dean gulps, the sound loud in the dead silence of the room. “Okay, and how exactly do you plan to, ah pound it into me?” he asks, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

“That's for me to know, and you to find out.” Castiel smiles, a flash of white teeth combined with the sparkle his his eyes, has Dean’s heavy cock leaking at the tip. Castiel picks up his blue tie from his neatly folded pile of clothes, leans over Dean, and begins tying it around his head, leaving Dean in total darkness and causing his other senses to shoot up another notch. “Dean, you will learn to show me the proper respect that is owed to me.” he purr-growls threateningly, exhaling heated breath into Dean’s ear. He moves to lick-suck between jaw and neck, while rubbing at the head of Dean’s wet crown with his thumb. "You will not offer yourself to anyone else, ever. You are mine now, and I am yours. You will treat me as your partner, in all and every circumstance." He bends down, gives Dean's diamond hard nipple a painful nip, and walks to the foot of the bed.

Dean chills instantly with the loss of Castiel's body heat hovering over him. Instinctively, like a tuning fork, his rigid cock seeks out Castiel, twisting Dean in his direction, and leaning towards its master. Dean's whole body, from his core to his very nerve endings reach out towards Cas, needing to feel him, have him close by his side, on him, in him.

A soft low whine escapes Dean as he stammers, "But, I... I didn't. You mean at the diner? The girl, waitress? Cas, baby, no...it...nothing. It meant nothing. I was gonna stop. I swear." 

A dip at the foot of the bed, and Dean knows Castiel is kneeling between his outstretched legs. "You let her touch you, Dean." Castiel accuses. "But even more disrespectful, you allowed her to touch you. To lay her hand on what is rightfully mine, you." He chastises, the steely note in his voice, promising certain punishment. “Did you forget that last night you gave yourself to me, willingly?”

The air around them is suddenly charged and Dean's hair stands on end. His ankles, wrapped in vise like grips, are pushed apart, even further. Dean yelps in surprise at the sudden manhandling, and slams his head back onto his pillow as rough hot hands start kneading their way towards his thighs.

"Dean, tell me why." Castiel asks, voice low and full of need, as he continues massaging the length and muscle of Dean's legs with his talented fingers.

"Mmph...? Dean grunts, barely able to concentrate on anything other than his want and need for release, and his overwhelming desire to feel Castiel, to touch and kiss him. 

"Humph," Cas snorts. "Focus Dean." He orders. "Tell me why you continue to let others think you are available. Clearly, you are not. Or do you want to be? Are you tiring of me already?" He asks, bending low, covering the sides of Dean's knees with tiny painful bites. "Perhaps I interrupted your landing another potential, ah, 'one night stand'?" He considers, caressing the delicate flesh where thigh meets groin, trailing gentle fingers in between the creases, that cause goose flesh to blossom all over Dean's shivering body.

"No!-" Dean croaks, his voice a dry rasp. "Only want...you, so much, Cas. Just you. Please...argh!" He wails as his balls are treated to a sudden blast of heated breath. 

"How can I know you're telling me the truth? That you won't attach yourself to another the moment you leave our bed. The moment you are away from my side, like you almost did this morning." Castiel wonders aloud as his fingers play along Dean's sides, pausing to catalogue each individual rib, his hands slowly snaking their way up towards Dean's outstretched arms. He grips Dean's biceps firmly, and whispers against his open mouth, "Swear it to me, Dean. Swear it on our bond. Swear your fealty to me. Make me believe you. Persuade me.” He urges, pressing small kisses into the warm yielding flesh of Dean's chest and neck.

"Promise, baby. Mmmm..." Dean hums, licking his lips, panting, rapidly unraveling under Castiel's restrained assault. His neglected dick close to spilling just from the angel's heated words and the tightly coiled tension between them that’s ready to snap at Castiel's leisure. "Cas, fucking touch me already. Need you on me." He twists his head, trying to capture Castiel's mouth, needing to taste him, to be grounded by the reality of him. 

Castiel pulls up and away from Dean's reach. He lets out a throaty chuckle and says, "I'm giving the orders today, Dean. This is my lesson to teach, remember?” He runs fingertips from Dean’s sternum to his groin, pausing to make lazy circles around his belly button, playing with the soft hairs there, avoiding the heavy length of Dean’s cock as it strains itself towards his touch, resting his hand on the sharp jut of his hipbone, kneading and pinching the knob hard enough to bruise. “Perhaps if you ask, with the proper wording, with the right tone, I may relent.” He teases, running his fingernail, gently, along the spine of Dean’s dick.  
“Please…” Dean begs, but the rest of his words are lost to the hot wet suction of Castiel’s mouth as the angel, mercifully, takes pity on Dean’s pleas and swallows him down. 

“Mmm,” Castiel hums around the heavy weight in his mouth, his head bobbing up and down. He pulls off briefly, lips glistening and pink, to ask, “Please what, Dean? Remember, you must address me properly, with respect, or, who knows, I may be called away, and unable to complete today’s lesson." He mock threatens, fingering the soft flesh of Dean's inner thighs.

“Sir, sir. Please, sir. Cas, s-sir.” Dean stutters, becoming impossibly more aroused from Castiel’s commanding influence and control over him. He need only follow Castiel’s orders for rewards that, he is sure, will be mind and soul blowing. 

“Very good, Dean, even if a little formal. Try again, with more feeling this time, more emotion. Make me believe you respect our relationship, our bond." Castiel mouths his request breathily against Dean’s ear, lips brushing the tender lobe, causing him to breakout in a fresh wave of gooseflesh. 

"Cas, you bastard! Arrrrrgh....!" Dean wails his protest as the angel sucks bruises on the tender flesh below his very sensitive ear. "You know damn well how I feel. I fucking showed you how fucking much I care for you all of last night. Everything I did, to you, was from my heart. I fucking respect you, man." He pants and has to pause for a long moment, thrilling in the heat that pulses at his core, getting more and more desperate to touch Castiel, to taste him, to spread himself over the angel's smooth muscled body, mapping out new routes that will get Castiel as wreaked as he feels. "I fucking worship you, Cas! You've ruined me for anybody else, okay, you god damn pain in my ass." He manages to say between groaning and gasping for relief from the small tortures that his cruel lover is currently inflicting upon him with his nimble fingers and slick tongue.

 

"Dean." Castiel says, low and barely audible, like a silent prayer, his voice deep and husky, it seizes Dean's heart, making it clench tightly, feel too big for his chest. "That was better, love." And, he removes Dean's blindfold. 

Dean, momentarily blinded, blinks rapidly, and adjusts quickly in the dim light of their room. He bites his bottom lip, holding back a sob at what he sees. 

Kneeling in front of him, bracketed between his thighs, is his love, Castiel. At that moment, Dean is so sure of his feelings, that the onslaught of emotions spiraling through his system, leave him gasping for air. 

Castiel is looking down at him, eyes bright and shining with unshed tears, his full lips partly open as he exhales heavily, his bare chest moving in time with his rapid heartbeat. He leans over, resting his hands on either side of Dean’s face. Bending lower, burying his face in Dean’s neck, he whispers endearments to his lover in forgotten ancient languages. He tilts his head up and kisses him slowly. A soft tap. Dean’s breath hitches, and as his lips part, Castiel kisses him again, licking along the opening, sucking on his tongue, deepening the kiss until they’re both dueling for dominance. He swallows Dean’s moans, taking his breath away, leaving him breathless, panting. 

“ Dean, I…,” he says, pausing to catch his breath. “You know I need your love, you’ve got that hold over me. Long as I’ve got your love, you know that I’ll never leave.” He stops, lowering his eyes, the fan of his eyelashes brushing his cheekbones. He looks back up at Dean; cheeks flushed pink, holding him down with his gaze, clears his throat and continues. “I know how much I lean on you, only you can see the changes that I’ve been through, have left a mark on me. You’ve been as constant as the Northern Star, the brightest light that shines. It’s been you, Dean, right down the line.” He sighs and bows his head. “I just wanted you to know that, Dean.”

“Dude, did you just quote 70’s lyrics to me?” Dean asks incredulously. He doesn’t think he could love Castiel more. 

“Yes, Dean.” Castiel says, batting his eyelashes prettily, blushing furiously. If it were anybody else, Dean would think they were acting, being coy on purpose. But no, not Castiel, there isn’t a self conscious bone in his beautiful body. 

“You know, ‘Right Down the Line’, is my favorite love song.” Dean tells Castiel. He gulps audibly, his throat too dry. “Cas, can you please do me a favor?” he asks. “Could you please untie my hands, baby. I really need to touch you, like yesterday.” 

Castiel bounces up, straddling Dean, the fat length of his cock bobbing obscenely in front of Dean’s face, tempting, enticing, inviting, luring him in, hovering dangerously close over his lover’s open mouth. Sudden wet heat has Castiel howling loudly, arching his body forward, as Dean wraps his mouth around his dick. He grabs at the ropes that bind Dean’s wrists to the bedposts, trying, with shaky hands, to untie him. 

Hands finally free, Dean grunts in satisfaction, grabs the globes of his angels' ass, holding him in place, and sucks greedily, hungrily, because, yes, he has been starving for this. He sucks him down, cheeks hollowing out, humming with pleasure. He pulls away briefly, licking a wet stripe down his palm, grabs the base of his lover's cock, teasing the slit with his tongue, Dean groans, loving the taste of the pearly white pre-come leaking from the tip, slurping and gulping, not caring about the lewd noises he can't and won't hold back, not with Cas. He takes his slicked fist, and begins slowly and smoothly to milk Castiel's thick length with a clever twist of his wrist.

 

Castiel gasps. “Dean…” he utters breathlessly, voice rough and ragged, eyes wide, lust blown. He hisses as he pries himself, gently, reluctantly, from between Dean’s lips, bending lower to cup Dean’s face with his hands, kissing his open mouth, plump lips crashing against bruised one’s, demanding entrance. He uses his tongue to trace the outline of Dean’s teeth, lips, biting and sucking, hungrily. “Be still now, I’m going to…” he trails off, scooting lower, towards Dean’s groin, burying his head, again, between Dean’s quivering thighs. 

Dean, upset momentarily at having Castiel’s scrumptious cock pulled from him, exhales sharply, canting his hips upward as Castiel blows warm puffs of air against the sensitive skin of his balls. 

Castiel smiles, thoroughly enjoying Dean’s very emotional and expressive reactions as he slowly takes him apart. He dips his head down, nuzzles into Dean’s groin, opens his mouth, and laps at his balls, swirling his tongue around each, gently sucking on one, then the other, nipping at the tender flesh in between. Dean arches his back sharply at the wet heat, cock rising challengingly, like an unsheathed sword seeking to either plunge itself into Castiel’s sweet hot mouth, or into the firm grip of his long talented fingers, or better still, into the tight heat of his angel’s truly divine ass.

Castiel’s eyes widen with awe when he looks up from between Dean’s legs and gets an eyeful of Dean’s beautiful cock. Dean’s dick is long and thick, pre-come leaking freely from the tip. “Dean,” he says mid-bite, voice thick and husky, yet still with an air of command. “You will not flirt with anyone else ever again,” bite, “Or, you will suffer the consequences. You belong to me.” He pauses, inhaling deeply; Dean’s scent is a mixture of musk, semen, and the soap from their earlier shower. It’s intoxicating and enough to drive him over the edge. He closes his eyes, trying to gain control over himself, and continues. “You said so yourself, with your body as well as your soul.” bite, “I accept you and all of your faults, Dean. I will not, however, accept that you disrespect me so blatantly.” He growls. “That, I will never tolerate.” Bite, suck, finally, swallowing Dean’s leaking cock, whole. 

“Y-Yes, Cas-!“ Dean wails, losing his mind and self-control. “Respect you, baby, please, …ah.. fuck…” He slams his head back against his pillow, spreading his bent knees even wider, giving Castiel better access, a better view, giving him everything, exposing not only his body, but also his soul, his all. Moaning softly, he reaches down, needing to touch the angel, running his fingers through his thick hair, gripping and holding his head, as Castiel devours him.

“Shh, love.” Castiel whispers, looking up, eyes half-lidded with lust. “No speaking while class is in session.” He scolds, a note of humor in his tone. “Always remember that you must respect my authority, or else.” He teases, lapping at the bulbous head. 

The angel’s taunts, threats, caresses, kisses, sucking, everything he’s doing to Dean, is slowly, tortuously, pushing him closer to the edge. 

“Dean, have I made myself clear? Will you abide by my terms and conditions?” Castiel asks, flicking his thumb over the tip, teasing and twisting it, tongue darting out, stabbing at the slit, provoking Dean’s body into uncontrollable spasms. 

“Fuck Cas, ah…yes, y-yes, please!!!” Dean stutters, barely able to put two words together through his passion-induced haze.

He's suddenly on his belly, knees bent so that his ass is exposed and vulnerable. He hisses as Castiel’s soft wet tongue penetrates his puckered hole. Castiel laps, sucks, digs relentlessly, deeper and deeper, probing and prepping Dean, first with his tongue, and then by adding one finger to the knuckle, sliding it in and out slowly, before inserting a second, scissoring, stretching until he can add a third. He pushes his deft and nimble fingers farther in, twisting and thrusting, hand splayed on the small of Dean’s back, holding him still, knowing he’s found Dean’s sweet spot when his lover bucks and moans loudly under him. 

Castiel's humming and moaning coupled with his x-rated slurping and sucking sounds, and the skillful thrusting of his fingers, cause white flashes of pleasure to shoot through Dean every time they brush past his prostrate, driving him into a frenzy. His nerve endings are buzzing and he knows he won’t last much longer as he pushes back into the angel’s relentless stimulation. "Cas,” Dean groans into the mattress. He rises onto his elbows, and gasps, “Baby, I...I’m not gonna last…”

Dean feels simultaneously empty, when the angel removes his fingers, and dizzy, when he’s flung, not too delicately, onto his back.

Dean gazes up at Castiel, loving how wreaked and debauched he looks; eyes all pupil, parted lips puffy and bright pink, flushed from chest to cheeks. He grins, says “C’mere.” Leans up, places his hand behind the angel’s neck and pulls him down, kissing him roughly, moaning into his mouth, biting his plump lower lip, his chin, the sharp outline of his stubbled jaw, down to his neck. “God, Cas, what you do to me.” he repeats into the crook of his angel’s neck. He lays his head back down, hands roaming freely over the wide expanse of Castiel’s finely muscled torso, pinching his nipples playfully, running his fingers along his sides, outlining each rib, the dip of his abdomen, the jut of his hipbones, finally settling on his lover’s rock hard cock. He grips it, runs his thumb over the pre-come oozing from the tip, and begins stroking him. 

“Ah, Dean.” Castiel gasps arching into Dean’s fist. 

“Like that, baby?” Dean asks, grinning wickedly, licking his lips, eyeing Castiel, memorizing him, entranced not just by his physical beauty, because, hot damn, Castiel is a fine piece of ass, but also by his sounds, the way he moves, the way he glows, other worldly, celestial, perfect.

Castiel leans down, cock still in Dean’s grip, slowly fucking his fist. He kisses Dean tenderly, nipping and licking his way down from his jaw to his neck, pausing there leaving a dark bruise to blossom. He winds his way towards Dean’s left shoulder, bending even lower to place an open mouth kiss to Dean’s brand, the mark that he placed there all but shouts ‘property of Castiel, do not fucking touch!’, eliciting a strangled sob from his lover. 

“Fuck me…” Dean yelps, as searing hot pleasure jolts through his body, leaving him winded and blinded. “Cas, you trying to kill me?” He whines. “I need to come, the fuck now.” He demands, pouting, not caring that he sounds childish or that he’s begging. This is Castiel, the one being with whom he can truly let his guard down. With unshakable faith and trust in his beloved, Dean whimpers, loudly. “Casssss…please, baby, I wanna come…”

Castiel smirks, fucking smirks at Dean’s lack of inhibitions, at his neediness, for him, only for him. Yes, he thinks, I have gotten through to him. Dean finally understands, knows what I want from him, what he means to me, but, most importantly, what I mean to him, Castiel muses. He grips Dean’s bicep, holding his arm still, and puffs his heated breath over the mark that is now raised and shiny.  
He feels it thrumming, like a rapid heartbeat, or his pulsing grace, coursing through Dean’s veins, unraveling him further. He places his hand over it, the fit perfect. He reaches down with his other hand, taking a hold of Dean’s dick, pumping it slowly, using his still slicked fingers to pull and rub, the friction exquisite over the shaft.

He moves his face over Dean’s torso, licking sloppy and wetly over his nipple, blowing over it, sucking delicately on the hardened bud. 

“Cas, please…” Dean gasps, his body, coated in a fine film of sweat, bathed in heat from his exertions, vibrating and tense from Castiel’s tortuous ministrations. 

“Dean…” Cas says, voice like gravel, a low sexy rasp of breath. “Shhh, beloved.” He whispers hotly from between Dean’s thighs, kissing him lightly on the soft flesh. He’s still jerking him off, movements slow and lazy, keeping him on the brink, ratcheting Dean’s need for release to stratospheric levels. “You have been an excellent student, Dean.” He commends. “You’ve earned excellent marks. I’m going to take care of you now, give you your reward.” 

Words like yes, finally, and please, going through Dean’s mind at Castiel's declaration. He sucks in breath, sharply, as he simultaneously feels a digit reinserted and his dick engulfed in hot wet heat, moaning loudly at the immediate pleasure. It lasts only a moment, however, making Dean whimper, ready to take matters into his own hands, grabbing the angel by his head, nudging his aching cock back in between his lover’s plump lips, fucking his mouth until he spills, swallowing Dean dry, until he’s spent. 

Dean's eyes snap open, ready to grab Castiel and take his reward himself. Instead, a silent gasp escapes his lips at what he sees. Castiel is kneeling between Dean’s bent knees, looking at him as if he's the tastiest morsel on the buffet table, like he's starving to death and only Dean can satiate his appetite, quench his thirst. The angel's face is rapt, eyes glowing bright blue, as if lit from within, licking his bruised lips leaving them shiny and tempting, stripping his cock, slowly but roughly, looking so fucking gorgeous and dangerous, that Dean believes he could come, untouched, just by enjoying the view. 

A shimmering aura emanating from the angel's back makes Dean's eyes widen. He shakes his head slightly, unsure of what he sees dancing behind and around Castiel's body. Could it be, he wonders, that the dark massive shadows expanding and contracting on his lover's back, in rhythm with his stroking hand, could they be his wings? Castiel nods, knowing what Dean must be seeing, what he must be thinking.

Dean's eyes glaze over with tears; he's overwhelmed with emotion, with love thick and heavy in his chest. He feels like he's drowning, like he can't breathe. He exhales then, not having realized that he had been holding his breath the whole time and says, voice choked and hitching, "Beautiful, Cas, you're so fucking beautiful, baby." He bites his lower lip, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. When he opens them again, he latches his gaze onto Castiel's blue one, and says clearly, his voice sure and surprisingly steady, "I love you, you know." As if there were ever any doubt, and smiles. 

Dean's declaration of love, his smile, the shine in his beautiful green eyes, shoot like an arrow through Castiel's grace, pinning him to the spot, making him forget what he's doing, only wanting to lay down and bask in his beloved's glow.

Forcing himself out of his stupor, Castiel focuses once again on the pleasure in which he so desperately wants to bathe Dean. He takes his free hand and licks it, leaving it wet, saturated, running the slickness over Dean's now puffy pink entrance. He positions himself in between Dean's bent legs; bends lower to lift one of Dean's legs up, and places it on his shoulder. With his other hand, he guides his cock between his lover's ass cheeks, placing it against Dean's hole, tilts his head down, kisses Dean tenderly, and pushes in.

Once breached, both Dean and Castiel let out a breathy moan. Dean's strangled yelp, as Castiel pushes in further, slowly and gently, until he’s completely in, turns into a moan of pleasure as the angel angles his hips and his cock hits Dean’s prostrate. The sounds they’re making loud and erotic, in the otherwise silent room.

Even though he’s gasping with every breath, and his heart feels like it’s about to break free from the confines of his too tight chest, Castiel keeps his pace slow and regular, not wanting to hurt Dean. He marvels at the sight of his reddened dick as he pulls out, almost to the tip, and then slowly slides back in until he’s in balls deep. The erotic image, almost enough to push him over the edge. 

He closes his eyes, grunting in satisfaction at Dean’s soft moans and his sensual writhing form coming apart beneath him. He leans forward, taking the fat length of Dean’s dick in his hand, and starts to pump it slowly in rhythm with his thrusts. 

Dean wails, loudly. Castiel’s pace is agonizing, maddening. “Cas…, faster, please baby, …fuck me, faster…” His supplications cut short, abruptly as Castiel rams into him in earnest, his pace quickening, relentless, and more aggressive. 

“Argh…fuck, yeah, baby,” Dean yells. No longer trying or caring to hold back, fuck what the neighbors might hear. 

“Dean, I’m…” Castiel stutters, his body flushed and coated in a thin layer of sweat, pumping furiously into Dean’s tight heat, all the while fucking Dean’s dick with his fist in time with his thrusts. 

The sight of his angel’s lascivious state, heavy lidded eyes, parted lips, heaving chest, finally send Dean spilling all over Castiels’s grip. 

For Castiel, the tight pulsing clenches of Dean’s tight hole finally trigger his orgasm. He releases thick, hot and heavy streams of semen into his lover; his cock pulsing and throbbing, filling Dean until it starts to ooze out and spill out onto his ass cheeks and his thighs. 

Castiel keeps rocking softly into Dean, holding tightly onto his raised thighs for support, riding out his orgasm until he’s completely emptied. 

“Cas, dude,” Dean slurs. He feels drunk, tongue heavy, throat tight. He inhales sharply and says, “Fucking respect you, us, man. Okay?” He raises himself on wobbly arms, reaches for Castiel’s face cupping the back of the angel’s neck with his hand and pulls him in for a wet, open-mouthed kiss. It’s inelegant and dirty, and perfect. 

They pull apart long moments later. Castiel, having lost his battle against gravity, is splayed on top of Dean’s body, covering him from head to groin in glorious sweat slicked naked flesh. He runs his fingers, feather light across Dean’s flank, caressing and tickling, worshiping him with the barest of touches. 

“Dean,” Castiel rasps, his voice so low and husky, Dean has to strain to hear him. “I’m very pleased you have learned to respect our bond. I expect to never have to resort to such drastic measures again in order to get you to honor our union the way you should.” Castiel states smugly. He’s baiting and teasing. It’s adorable and Dean is all too happy to play along. 

“Well, um, sure. I mean, yeah. Of course, I respect our bond, Cas. But, I don’t know. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to show me how important this is to you every once and a while. I mean, you know. Keep me in line, is what I’m saying.” He licks his lips, grinning wickedly at his lover, communicating with his eyes, that yes, many more lessons in respect are exactly what Dean needs, wants.

Holding Dean’s face between his palms, resting between the bracket of his thighs, his chest on top of his lover’s, Castiel’s blue eyes search Dean’s green dilated pupils looking deeply for confirmation and understanding. Finding it, he sighs heavily, relief flooding his system. He smiles, nose crinkling, making Dean’s heart flutter; his chest feeling as if butterfly wings are beating erratically, trying to escape. 

“Dean, if I must continue to instruct you in the fine art of respecting our relationship,” Castiel starts, fondly, “Then, I must insist that you too continue your lessons to me, on worshiping. I’ve become quite the fan of your methods in instruction and persuasion.” He huffs soft laughter and lets his head fall onto Dean’s, capturing his mouth in a warm tender kiss. 

“Done, and done.” Dean replies, deepening the kiss into something that he hopes will carry him off into sweet dreams. 

fin


End file.
